Who's afraid of the big, bad wolf?

"As long a blood flows through these veins, all the world shall fear my name". Fenrir Valter Greyback. 35. King of the Werewolves. "Deatheater". ~Hiatus until April 9th~

[lestrangexrod]

FENRIR GREYBACK ± PLAYLIST

listen here

- @creatureofnightmares -

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

{Partnered}

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

blackestdevotions:

Bellatrix supposed she should have been grateful. Fenrir Greyback may have been a half-breed, but he was an alpha, one of the most powerful among non-wizard dark creatures. The Dark Lord knew what he was doing. He was smart, but of course he would be– only someone smart and conniving would have succeeded in the things he had. And in any case, Madame Lestrange could admit there were worse pairings than the werewolf. At least she was not stuck watching over the teenagers again. 

One arched eyebrow raised slightly at the comment,as the toe of her heel put an end to the embering nicotine beneath her feet. Smoking was known to be a disgusting habit, one those of high society - women - were not often members of. But it had its moments, a time and a place, and Bellatrix would be lying to say she had not frequented such in her school days. But this was a different era, and they had a job to do. There was not, and could be none until they were finished, time for such.

“The man of the house is a Ministry worker. Runcorn was to receive information on the whereabouts of blood traitors from him, which the Dark Lord has since learned to be false.” She explained, strides forward long and self-important, steps taken with a purpose. “Surely you can imagine what consequences must exist for such.”

Most would assume that Bellatrix, being the powerful pureblood woman that she was, would look down on the likes of Fenrir, but like her husband and her mother, even if they did not agree to see him as an equal, they respected him as a powerful alpha in his own right - to do anything less, was foolish and none of them were fools. The Lestranges had fast become a pureblood couple that he could actually respect, rather than vomit over or want to rip the throats out of and he was finding it increasingly difficult not to rip the throats out of most people nowadays.

He could smoke and do his job. He could do his job blind drunk and high of illegal substances. The wolf in his took over, like autopilot and he barely had to think about the moves he needed to take, because his mind and body did that for him. “Foolishly trying to protect those unworthy of protection” he sighed, shaking his head, a display that clearly meant ‘when will they learn?’ The man would pay and his family would pay for his mistake as well. “I am assuming we will be attempting to gain the true information from him... before we get carried away with the fun”.

[boyzoo]

[druella-black-blog1]

Darkest of Friends || Fenrir & Druella

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

druella-black:

Druella looked up in surprise at Fenrir’s words, her fear of how he would respond to her confession evaporating as she heard the unusual note of compassion in his voice. After all that they had been through as friends, she shouldn’t have been surprised that he understood her, but she was. Cygnus would never have understood the way she felt about Andromeda. Their differences aside, she knew that her husband loved their daughters in his own way, had even once loved Andromeda, but that love could never survive Andromeda’s betrayal. There was nothing that Cygnus detested more than a traitor.

But a mother’s love was different. Druella knew she wasn’t a good mother by any stretch of the imagination. She had been too often cold, detached, unfeeling. To Bellatrix, she had channeled all of her bitterness at her loveless marriage, leaving her cold and demanding. To Andromeda, she had been absent emotionally, too intimidated by the goodness that had shone through in her daughter even from a young age. Only to Narcissa had Druella been anything close to a good mother–Narcissa was hers, all hers. Her eyes, her hair, her mannerisms. The oldest girls were Blacks, but Narcissa was something special. But even so, even with how often she had failed her daughters, she could never stop loving them. Even if that love was weak or pathetic, it couldn’t be erased. 

And Fenrir seemed to understand. “You would never turn your back on your daughter, even if she betrayed you?” She found it difficult to comprehend, though not that difficult to believe. Fenrir might seem unforgiving to most, but she had seen the softer side of him. Hell, she was seeing the softer side of him now. Druella considered his words, wondering how she might be able to make that idea work. “Look after her how?” There was no denying that Druella felt the pull of knowing her granddaughter, of what it might mean to see Nymphadora and be a part of her life, even if she was a half-blood.

He could tell that his friend was conflicted, she had a mind full of thoughts that screamed at each other from different sides of many arguments and only know he noticed just how frustrated she truly was. It didn’t help that her bastard of a husband never supported her, but Fenrir pushed it aside as he knew now was not the right moment to think dark and murderous thoughts about a bastard of a man whom he would have quite gladly ripped the head off of her. For her, but also for everyone else in the wizarding world who had to suffer him. 

He didn’t want to make her feel worse than she already did, but he would never lie to her - he couldn’t. He could lie, torture, murder on any other day, but never to or around her. She truly had some sort of spell over him and he knew, his feelings for her pushed past the boundaries of friendship, but he wouldn’t act upon it. It would be unfair. “She would be punished for her betrayal, depending on the betrayal itself, but no, I would never turn her away” he answered, honestly. Harriet, another wolf had betrayed them all and led to several werewolf deaths many years ago. She had simply been pushed down the ranks and punished by the hate of the others.

“You care about your daughter, and your granddaughter, you’ll find a way. You’re a smart woman” he said, his lips twitching as he drained was remained in his glass, before placing it back down on the table. “...I have wolves, who are quite stealthy, I have connections that you could use. Your family would never know, the Dark Lord would never know and you can sleep safe in the knowledge that your blood is being watched over”.

[atillingtoots-blog]

prompts for the first wizarding war

☂ - Our characters get stormed in together

☏ - One (or both) of our characters is using the telephone for the first time

✎ - Our characters are supposed to be doing homework but get bored and/or distracted

∞ - A scene between our characters 10 years from now, if the war ceased to exist

☒ - My character is the reason yours dies

♚ - Our characters have a night in the pubϟ - One of our characters has a panic attack

☼ - Our characters have a child together

✪ - First date

❣ - “Because I’m love with you, idiot!”

⚥ - One of our characters is caught in a compromising position.

➳ - Our characters serve detention together (or one of them is supervising the other’s detention)

❝ - Reference to Remus’s “furry little problem” 

✈ - My character’s first time riding a broom (or another experience, feel free to specify)

✿ - Headcanon: My character’s first kiss

♥ - The moment my character realizes they’re in love

☯ - Flash forward AU: our characters’ children get married 

☢ - “If you don’t tell him/her, I swear to god I will!”

▲ - My character confesses something to yours

♭- Both of our characters as muggles

☾- One of our characters shows up to the other’s place drunk.

↮ - Our characters are trapped in a broom closet (or other small space) together

★ - My character having a fantasy/wet dream

♠ - Love potion: My character is slipped it and comes on to yours

♜- Midnight snacks

✂ - Divorce

☺- Kiddos: how our characters would have acted (or did act) together as children

☞- Our characters move in together

✖ - Envy

ღ - Desire

☌ - Insecurity

✔- AU where one of your character’s ships is now a student/teacher relationship (you pick who is who)

Σ - My character comes back to teach at Hogwarts

ø - My character suffers from amnesia and can’t remember yours

¢- Someone loses a bet

⚔ - Adrenaline

♫- Five songs I think of when you think of my ship

♩- Five songs I think of when I think of your ship

✛ - Dreamcast my character’s kid(s)

☸ - My character at their lowest of lows; your character encounters mine (opt)

☮ - In a perfect world…

✑ - An entry from my character’s journal

❦ - My ship doing something that should stay behind closed doors 

✯- “Before you, I didn’t have this problem!”

♙- My character dreams of their future

♟- My character dreams of your character’s future

♣ - Felix Felicis 

♦ - Our characters during a raid

➤ - 13 Going On 30 AU: My character wakes up 7 years from now with no recollection of what has happened in the meantime

❄ - Mistletoe

☃- Our characters act like they’re twelve

℉ - Dog days of summer

≠ - Cutting loose ends

ℳ - Marry me

⌘ - Our characters dance together

✌ - Winning

♛ - “Screw this!”

✞ - Our characters attend a funeral or visit a tombstone

♮- Our characters as old geezers

♯ - Babies

☟ - “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

☀ - Pets

♞ - Dark Horse: Your character surprises mine (specify how)

✉ - “I can’t do this anymore.”

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

Powerless || Arabella and Fenrir

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

mvgicless:

  I doubt you think I deserve to be made comfortable.

    The sour words made her cringe, standing there with no wounds, with full freedom and mobility, staring down at the prisoner. Fenrir was one of them, a monster by every right, yet Arabella couldn’t help but feel badly for him. Yet just as quickly as the empathy washed over her, it was shoved away by the knowledge that he would kill her if he was given the chance, and with far less thought on the matter. The man was right in saying it, she wanted him to feel the same amount of pain those evil beings had inflicted on her friends. Arabella wanted him to starve, to be beaten, to be left to die only to be brought back again - but she hated herself for it. Were they monsters as well? Had the war pushed her into touching her inner beast?

    Still she moved forward with the glass, holding it just out of reach. Of course the simple liquid had come with a price, though she hadn’t thought of it like that. If there was one thing she could give him credit for, it was being intelligent. How many of these situations had he fallen into before? She was unamused with the thought. “I want answers.” She stated bluntly. “I want to know about Orion and Druella Black.” I want to be the one to kill them, her thoughts had been full of anger since she had run into them. “I want to know about that whole fucked up family, and you’re going to tell me.” She handed him the water, aware that her leverage was being given up. “If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll feed you.”

He saw her cringe and his eyebrow raised slightly, though it dropped back down quickly after. She would not feel guilt for his current position, nor would anyone else and he knew, though he had earned his reputation and done well to preserve it, it was at times like these when his deeds could not be overlooked and the man he truly was underneath was forgotten. He would not kill for no fair reason, the woman in front of him had nothing to fear, but the sight of him, the horror stories that she must have heard would put the thoughts into her head and keep them their even if he decided to attempt correct them. He had learned a long time ago that the wizarding community were not worth the effort. Only the Dark Lord had seemed to understand, though he was doubting that now.

“You want answers for questions you haven’t asked” he said, bluntly, examining his fingernails, though his ears pricked up at the mention of Orion and Druella. “You want to know what about them, exactly? Star signs? Favourite colours? Dream holiday destinations? I think you’d be better off asking them yourself. Pureblood folk like them don’t associate with low-life, werewolf scum like me” he growled, repeating words he had heard whispered about him by a handful of Deatheaters. He took the water and sipped it, knowing that if he drank it too fast, despite his desperate need to do so, he would regret it. “I doubt I have any information worth your time, love”.

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

Chained || Fenrir and Tilden

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

tildentoots:

What was more unsettling? 

The thoughts swirling through his mind ( death murder vengeance pain retribution guilt ) or the look in Fenrir’s eyes? Was there an awareness of his impeding end, a rebelling against it, or did he not care? Was that merely a facet of his everyday life to the point where being chained up didn’t threaten him?

The silence stretched on between them as Tilden didn’t answer, merely tilted his head as he thought. Trying to puzzle out both the people sitting in this room. “For your first question - rites of passage, demands for your execution and disposal of the body, your demands and pleas and threats. That’s what most people who have been threatened with death tend to talk about.”

It was nearly impossible to keep his voice clinical, stating the facts as they were - as facts. No judgement, no value, no fear or apprehension. But Tilden flattened that part of himself, the part that was reacting and shouting at the situation he was in. He needed to stay in the moment, then go away and think about it. They would need to happen separately.

“As for your second, anything useful would help.” Tilden shrugged, a languid movement of his shoulders, not betraying the tension of his back and jaw. “You know, the stuff we’ve been trying to get out of you for a short while. Got any new enlightenment to share?”

The wolf paced his mind nervously, even whilst growling pathetic under it’s breath, though Fenrir was unsure as to whether it was referring to him or those who continued to torture and question him for information he would not and could not give. The man in front of him look no older than one of his subordinates, although skinnier with a paler complexion that led him to believe he spent far too much time shading himself from the sun - or perhaps he was a vampire and Fenrir’s senses had dulled completely, becoming unreliable and untrustworthy in such a dark, damp place in a bleak situation.

He would not die though, oh no, of that he was quite sure. he had faced hunters, his parents, his former alpha and the pack and won, every time. He had suffered loses, causalities, injuries to his flesh but the killing blow had never come. These insignificant, self-righteous witches and wizards could believe what they wanted but he was a survivor who wasn’t about to be brought down by a bunch of teenage rebels. They needed to be taught a lesson and they would get it, in time, when he is chains loosened and his hunger for blood rose to a dangerous height.

He smirked, half chuckled, before tilting his head at the man. “I have had many threats against my life, many a man telling me that they would end my life, slowly and painfully and deliver the pieces to my family. I have looked death in the face a hundred times and walked away, after nothing but a shake of the hand. You are not death, it is not my time. Death will come for you before it will come for me” he said, without a pause, even though his throat was dry and his voice cracked, he had continued to speak. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he said, the same words he had repeated over and over again. Torture was child’s play, his lips were not so loose as to succumb. “I’m just a humble werewolf, trying to make ends meat. I don’t even know why I’m here” he said, a smirk on his face as he lied. he had not told the truth to any of them since he had arrived and it wouldn’t change. he had his daughter to protect, and if he slipped up, the Dark Lord would kill her in punishment.

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

Egyptian Zodiac

                                                   Sekhmet

                     (July 29 to August 11, October 30 to November 7)

Sekhmet is the Goddess of War and Vengeance. Those who are born under this Egyptian zodiac sign are mentally brilliant, imaginative and optimistic. They’re extremely jovial and talkative with people. They are witty and accommodating and their strengths lie in their hospitable character. Sekhmet people are honest, sensitive, and good in business. Their weaknesses are anger, impatience, argumentative, and are characterised by their lack of indulgence, their uncompromising side and their sense of values.

[fyeahefrongifsdeactivatedforgoo]

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

{Summoned}

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

lestrangexrod:

His eyes glazed over slightly as he pictured the kill; brutal and bloody. Rodolphus almost wished he could be there to witness the wizard being torn to shreds, violently ripped apart, limb by limb. Just the thought itself stirred something deep inside him. “Unfortunately, clean kills are all I seem to get nowadays and sadly a quick killing curse doesn’t do justice to the real thing.” For Rodolphus, the feeling of blood splattering on your face or your fingers wrapped tightly around a cold throat was akin to nothing else.

“Perfect.” Rodolphus smirked, snapping back to reality. He grasped the werewolf’s hand, tightly gripping his fingers and shaking firmly. “It will almost be a shame to have him gone; It’s rather calming to have someone to direct your anger towards.” He shook his head slightly, a smile playing at his lips. “Although I suppose annoyances aren’t hard to come by at the moment.” Of course the wizard was more than a mere annoyance, otherwise Rodolphus would have found a far less ferocious way to dispose of him, but even true enemies could be found in spades. Especially in times of war.

Fenrir remembered every explicit detail of every kill he had ever made in his life. He could remember the taste of blood in his mouth, the feeling of the crimson liquid dripping down his jaw, the soft tear of flesh underneath his sharp, claw like fingernails, the screams that echoed from those being attacked and those witnessing the gruesome scene. He could have used his wand, he could have tortured them and sliced their throats, but there was no fun in that and no reputation to be earned in the simple kills. “Perhaps you need to have a little more fun yourself, then. Killing curses are too merciful, squeezing the life out of someone with your bare hands... now that is where the ecstasy in killing lies”.

They shook hands, a gesture that was a mere formality, although most he did business with were always reluctant to offer him their hand and winced whilst he shook them. Rodolphus was different, he wasn’t repulsed or fearful of those he struck deals with and Fenrir admired him for it. “I am sure, a man of your reputation and wealth, can find another man to focus your anger and energy towards, and when they get boring I can always dispose of them too” he smirked, a gruff chuckle escaping from between his lips. In times of war, enemies were not hard to find and they were easier targets than most. He knew that the man sitting across from him would have a new enemy to focus on within a matter of days.

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

Alpha Aesthetic

“Throw me to the wolves and I shall come back leading the pack”.

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

“Tortured Pup and the Black Girls”                                                               ↬ Punk Band AU

{{ @druella-black, @walburgaxblack }}

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

Remus & Fenrir || Forest of Sons 🐾

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

booksandbloodmoons:

      ☠  IS THIS WHAT BROTHERS DO?

          Moony was wide-eyed and fascinated, the mere sight of others like him absolutely thrilling in ways he had not once conceived in all his time as a wolf. Clawed paws dug into moss-covered terrain that provided cushion beneath his feet as he ran, keeping up with those of his kind. It was positively freeing, this. Being. No dog and rat chase, no walls barricading him in a tiny, wooden structure he could never claw his way out of. 

        The biggest wolf, the Alpha, remained at the center, in the lead, and Moony hung back with the others, trying to figure out his place here. They’d occasionally snap their jaws at him, showing dominance to the newbie, but Moony refused to back down, showing his own teeth when necessary. He had always been number one in his small pack, if one could call it that, with the rat, the stag, the dog. He loved them, in a way, but he knew this was where he belonged. 

       The pack came to a sudden halt, Moony’s feet sliding against slippery terrain, the leaves wet from previous rainfall and melted snow, and it took him a moment to figure out why. Without thinking, he leapt forward, beside the Alpha, who he intrinsically knew as his master, his father of sorts, and watched with wide eyes as a new wolf entered the scene. Just as the others, his lips curled up and revealed a glistening set of razor sharp teeth. The scruff on the back of his neck stood erect and Moony snarled, waiting for a sign.

☠  The new wolf did not concern him.

Instinctively, he knew that the wolf he had brought to the centre would handle himself and as long as he showed no weakness, no signs of backing away from those who snapped their jaws in his direction, the pack would accept him for the night and the future nights to come if the wolf’s presence became more frequent, though something told him it would not. In his wolfish mind, he could not make sense of the feeling, it meant nothing to him and shook it off as he padded forward, nose tilted to the sniff the air above.

Always cautious, always together, the pack moved in a group through the forest. Some of the younger wolf bounded forward to roll and jump one another, play fighting and howling as they did so, but none ever dared challenge the Alpha to a fight, even in play. However, one wolf, a small skinny wolf whom the Alpha identified as family, female, trotted up to the new wolf and nudged him playfully, snapping her jaw at the others who tried to intimidate them, until they turned and ran off, dodging through the trees ahead but still in the Alpha’s line of sight.

He ran forward, feeling his muscles stretch and twist as he did so, though not in a way that was unpleasant or painful. Fenrir always felt true freedom in his wolf form, he looked like the others, despite his larger size and had control over the night ahead of them.

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

“Little do they know the danger that’s lurking right under their noses.”

He stood, leaning against the trunk of the tree on the outskirts of the forest, looking down at a village. The villagers had never given them problems before, but after finding out that they were sheltering werewolf hunters and providing them with weapons and medical supplies during the full moon, they had become the new targets.

He was grateful to Rodolphus for the information that he had passed along. Not only did his pack live within the forest, using the trees and shelter from an outside world that longed to see them dead, that saw them only as beast in need of extermination, but his daughter also lived amongst the trees. His pack could look after themselves, but he had a duty to protect his daughter.

“Oh, but they will soon enough”.

{{ @lestrangexrod }}

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

“Shut your ungodly, lopsided mouth and quit interrupting.”

Augustus and Rodolphus jumped up to hold Fenrir back as he attempted to launch himself across the table at the smug Cygnus Black. Fenrir hated Cygnus. He hated his smug smile, his polished shoes and the way he treated his wife. He hated the way he looked down on everyone who didn’t fit his idea of a perfect, pureblood world.

“Fenrir, sit down man, he’s not worth it!” Augustus hissed in his ear. Fenrir growled in the back of his throat before allowing himself to be pushed back into his seat. 

{{ @cygnvsblxck, @avgvstvs, @lestrangexrod }}

[sxvsnape-blog]

dégoûtant | f.g & s.s

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

sxvsnape:

     ♠ SUCH MONSTROSITY HAD NO PLACE in civilisation. He was very well aware that his thoughts regarding the lycanthrope could get him killed, or turned, by the very monster in front of him, but he knew that there were only a few people who could read his mind. The dumbfuck in front of him could never be one of them. ( He wonders if monster is too kind of a word - there was no fear behind it, only disgust. )

     It was as though he was basically a wolf instead of a human. The stark contrast between Greyback and Lupin struck him in that very second — Lupin was extraordinarily successful at hiding the fact that he was a mutation, something to be tested and experimented on instead of a functioning member of society. Greyback, however, seemed to embrace his savagery, which made him lower in Severus’ eyes.

     The things he did for power and acknowledgement.      “ Calm the fuck down.         I’m here on the Dark Lord’s orders.         He said you had something of importance to him. ”

    His tongue rolled the inside of his cheek, tasting blood that could have been his own or could have been that of those whose throats he had ripped to shreds, but he couldn't tell the difference. He had stumbled back to his home the night before and passed out on his sofa, without bothering to shower or change, but the stench of dried blood had never bothered him before. The wolf inside his growled in approval at the memory of the events of the previous, before turning its keen, judgemental eyes towards the man standing on his doorstep.

    Fenrir couldn't read minds, he didn't possess such skill as he shied away from most wizarding practices out of principle, but he could read facial expressions and his eyes narrowed in response. Head lowered and shoulders hunched forward, he stepped in close to the man and breathed harshly in his face, "what did you just tell me to do?" He ground his teeth together before snapping back, as if he hadn't done anything at all, as if a switch had flipped in his mind and changed his personality all together.

    "You better come in whilst I fetch it. Folk round here don't like wizards lurking" he smirked, stepping back for the other man to pass.

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

Chained || Fenrir and Tilden

[creatureofnightmares-blog1]

tildentoots:

Time was beating in his head, an echo in his temple, its acid on his tongue. Already his hands felt soiled, blood dripping, sticky and hot from his knuckles as he imagined Fenrir dead.

Dead.

Empty eyes and empty future and empty head and empty. Gone. Deceased.

Tilden took in a shaky breath as he walked down the corridor, hands jammed into his pockets (clean, there was no blood on them, he had just checked, and checked), steeling his mind to remorse. They were judge, they were justice, they were protectors and saviours. Who watched the watchers?

He let the breathe out as he unlocked the door and stepped in, calming his heartbeat as he closed it behind him. Then he turned back to Fenrir, cutting himself off from emotion. There was a voice changing charm on his throat, but Tilden didn’t trust himself to speak, not yet. Instead, he sat on the floor and tilted his head.

Another breath, then, “neither. Well, I bring neither. I wanted to see if you needed to talk? You so easily wanted the first word, so?” His gut was rebelling, already protesting at the fact that they had someone chained up, never mind that they would be killing them.

If they were going to murder him whilst he rotted in chains, part of him wished they would get it over and done with so that he would get some peace and fucking quiet. Every other hour is seemed they were disturbed, pulled from room to room, interrogated, beaten and thrown back into the cell together, chained up once more. His strength was diminishing with lack of food and water, but the chains did very little to hold him back and he could have broken them easily if he wanted too. Starvation was a very old friend of his.

"What would I need to talk about?" he smirked at the masked man with the clearly manipulated voice. If they were so intent on killing them, why were they hiding their identities? Were they afraid that their ghosts would haunt the earth and reveal their secrets - as if the Deatheaters actually gave a shit about Aversio and their pathetic cause. "What do you want me to need to talk about?" he asked, rephrasing his question with a smirk on his face.

Come little boy, come and play with the big bad wolf.